


Pathends

by vea_mellilla



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Build, a reeallyy slow build, emotions are complicated man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vea_mellilla/pseuds/vea_mellilla
Summary: Jaskier is trying to figure out what to do with his life after the fall of Cintra.Geralt is just as confused and has double the responsibilities now (cough Ciri cough).There are just people you are meant to not stop bumping into in life. Jaskier just blames destiny at this point.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Pathends

Hiking up a mountain in the middle of spring is a pretty nice sight. Jaskier was staring off at the green fields, trying to pay less attention to the mud constantly sticking to his shoes. Paths like those weren’t what he usually went for, but the weather was nice and there was no point wasting time going around when he could easily pass through here. There is supposed to be a small town at the heel of the mountain. A place for rest and normal, _non-forest_ food. Problem is, Jaskier is on the _wrong_ side. And the sun won’t be up for much longer, either. A couple of hours, at best.

It’s not like it’s a big mountain. More like an overgrown hill. A considerable amount of overgrown hills. Jaskier even tried to climb up a couple of big looking rocks once, knowing full well that won’t help him see much farther. He was still not close enough. That’s when the small ball of worry had nested in his chest, and it grew heavier as time passed on.

Jaskier was very aware, at this point, of how bad he was at measuring distances. He was tired, his belly protesting for something different than that week-old bread that’s probably more of a rock than actual bread. He does have a habit of sticking those in every possible pocket he can find. And _apples;_ their image alone makes Jaskier’s throat close up in disagreement. Enough of those. If he-

_Wait._

Jaskier froze. Feet standing straight, unmoving, and mind now fully aware of the footsteps they leave in the all too muddy road. And beside them, heading in the same direction as his, were another _set of footprints_. Only difference was those came in fours, and bigger. The ball of worry wasn’t just a small nuisance now, it turned into a full-on silent freak out.

Jaskier’s head spun around, his eyes wide and scanning seemingly through everything. From the road, to the fields, and back down at the footprints again. His gaze finally glanced up and his jaw clenched, lips pressed together in a thin line. The sun was low, covering the sky in a warm orange tint. Jaskier’s fingers tightened their grip on his bag, left hand latching onto the strap as well.

Taking one slow step backward, a second, Jaskier turned around to where he knew was a small, well-forested part. He had passed it not too long ago. He picked up his pace, eyes swimming from dot to dot, trying to take in as much as possible. Being out in the open like this was not good. Trees provide cover, right?

And sunset was near. Human eyes don’t see as well in the dark, no they certainly don’t. But other’s do. He threw a few worried glances back at the path.

Jaskier closed his eyes, took a heavy gulp of air, and went on.

The sky was dark by the time he reached the trees.

…

There is no bright moon to shine direction this night. Or cast shadows, at the very least, because, right now, Jaskier was finding it very hard to keep his feet from tripping on any overgrown roots. The deeper he went into the forest, the less human-friendly it got. Everything was growing over everything, connected into a dark web of branches that clearly didn’t know what personal space was. Jaskier _was_ trying to be quiet. But every time a branch came in contact with the fabric of his clothes, it made a low hissing sound. Or maybe he was imagining it? The forest was unnerving him, it way too quiet.

Jaskier was just praying his belly will keep quiet. He tried to eat one of his bread rolls, only two were left, but it was so tasteless and, well, impossible to bite into at this point. He’ll enjoy better food once he’s reached his destination.

Which was unlikely to happen soon. Jaskier was moving in an entirely different direction. So, for now, the plan is to find a place to hide and _finally_ rest. Preferably sleep till morning, and then go back to the path. Or find a different one.

Jaskier’s been moving like this for quite some time now. He would find a nice boring inn, get his lute out and charm anyone possessing a good sense of melody, and if he’s lucky enough; be of pleasant company to a lovely lady for a night or two. And then he’ll be off again. Moving on to the next town when sometimes, he didn’t even need to. As though if he stayed in one place for too long, he would miss on _something_. So here he was, stuck wandering in a scary-ass forest, at night, with a possible encounter with a big four-legged monster. _Marvelous._

Jaskier did know, at the very least, one cause of his problem; Cintra.

Or what happened to it, to be exact. _A whole year ago._

Its defeat was unexpected to everyone. There has been so much talking, at first. Every town and small village with its own opinion. Jaskier heard of the news almost instantly. And obviously, he _had_ to go there. Curiosity out rules fear. He wanted to write the most marvelous song about loss and… and ‘’ _the pain of defeat_ ‘’. Yet another muse for his poetic mind.

What he saw _did_ deliver. And he did write. But Jaskier will not go back there again. Not now. Not until he stops seeing the sunken, hollow faces of people whose stares look just as empty as their dead loved ones’.

So Jaskier went north, and _away._

Jaskier raised a hand to his hair, combing through its tangles and days-old sweat. He was getting distracted, _and_ now wishing of a warm shower.

That’s when he saw what he needed.

It was a tree. Its trunk big enough to carve a small cave in and still have leg space for stretching. But Jaskier was more interested in the climbing part. And for that, it was more than perfect. It had a low hanging branch, big enough to support his weight till he reached a higher spot. His eyes shined with glee, lips curling in a small grin. _He can finally pass out._

Mere minutes later, Jaskier was already up and seated in the middle, body engulfed by three thick branches. He drew up his legs to his chest, lute securely tucked in between. It didn’t take long before his mind went as quiet as the trees themselves.

…

“Hey.”

A small, round object bounced off a branch.

“Hey, Mister!”

Two more hit the same branch, each one getting closer to Jaskier’s shoulder. His body stirred, and he curled up even tighter.

“Hey, _wake up_!”

Just as Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open thanks to the loud voice from bellow, another stone, this time piercing through the air with more accuracy, struck him right on the cheek. Jaskier’s glad he didn’t fall off the tree right then and there. He scrambled up, trying to get a better view of the ground. The lute started to dangle, slipped, and nearly fell if Jaskier hadn’t balanced it back up on his left foot. He heard a muffled snicker that quickly died when its owner noticed his wide eyes, looking back at her in bewilderment.

There was a small, lanky girl there. _Staring right up at Jaskier._

“I could have used bigger stones, you know.” Her tone was playful, amused. She strode up close to the trunk, eyes still focused on his bag. “You need some help?”

“ _What?_ Oh no, no.” A small pause. “Excuse me but what does _a small kid_ do in a forest? Alone, too, I might add. Not that it’s weird but… it’s weird, actually.” Jaskier put one hand on his hip and realized that wasn’t helping his balance much, so he brought it back up to a branch above his head. He was expecting- well, not this. He wasn’t expecting anything this morning. He was supposed to go back to the road _at some point_. That’s how far his pans went. But a tingle of hope started to rise up in his chest. “Hey, say, is there a _teeny_ chance there might be a town near here? There has to be one. Please tell me yes. The answer is yes, right?”

The girl snorted. She was observing him carefully as the heel of her foot started digging a small hole in the dirt. She finally answered. “First, _not_ a kid. I bet I can beat you at arm wrestling. And second, you know you speak a lot? And why are your clothes so… _bright_?” She threw a thumb behind her back as she continued. “I could see your red-ness all the way from up there. Try brown next time- and don’t look so offended. It’s an advice.” Jaskier had no idea where this “there” was, but by her tone, he figured it wasn’t as close. He did tend to stick out like an orange among potatoes. But that was the point! He was a bard and a poet. He will _never_ dress as a potato. And if it weren’t for his clothes this tiny life-saving child wouldn’t have seen him. If there is a kid here, it most certainly knows where the town is. If only she would tell-

“Are you a jester?”

A _what_?

“ _Excuse me?”_ She failed to hold in the bright grin that graced her face with glee. Yes, she was definitely mocking him now. And having a blast, too. Going around comparing him to a court fool. Didn’t she graze his ego enough already? “What part of my _fine garments_ fit that position, now? You know that I am very offended by what you just said, wounding a bard with such a comparison. _Music_ and _poetry_ is what I do and if you-“

“-compare me to a jester again I will not shut up for the rest of the day?” Jaskier’s jaw clinked with a loud enough sound even for her to hear. She rolled her eyes until her gaze glanced over to Jaskier’s bag again. She stayed thoughtful as her hair was moving from side to side, blown by the wind. It was too short for her to grasp in one hand. “I was kidding. Mostly. I _did_ see your bag, though. And I know there’s an instrument in there. I hope your singing is better than your clothing.”

She was looking at Jaskier expectantly. As if waiting for him to bite back. To speak again. Darn, that little kid had some heavy dose of nerve. Just as Jaskier was _oh so ready_ for this match, she interrupted him.

“Nearest town is in at least three days travel.” She raised one dark, bushy eyebrow at his silent mouthing of _are you kidding me_. “And you’re not the only one traveling this road. Most people aren’t as pleasant company. I’ve heard of some nasty creatures too, so yeah. Don’t travel alone, unless you plan on using that lute as a sling. Which I doubt you will. So, come on, then.” She put her hands on her hips, waiting. Jaskier blinked at her, eyebrows knitted until he understood what she meant. He started to slowly climb down with a warry but curious demeanor. It wasn’t a smooth descent, and he might have cursed a few times at his wobbly footing. But the moment Jaskier was back and steady on his feet, she started to talk away.

Actually, he didn’t understand anything of what was going on.

“Hey- _hey wait._ Where are we going? Or, uh, where are _you_ going, and should I follow?”

Jaskier knew that the loud sigh coming from her direction was definitely accompanied by an eye roll. He caught up in a few long strides.

“There isn’t a town here, obviously, but I’m not alone either. “She glanced up at him. “ _I told you_ it is safer to travel through those places in groups. So… I’m being nice, and I’m inviting you to join in.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” 

As they walked Jaskier noticed her looking around, picking and throwing rocks back down. She only shoved the bigger, rounder ones in the pockets of her pants. Jaskier was surprised he didn’t notice earlier, but the girl wasn’t wearing the normal girl dresses. She looked more like a young boy, if one didn’t care enough to see the details. Even her hair matched, being so short. The only reason he knew she was a girl was because of her squeaky voice. _Huh._

Jaskier clapped his hands in realization and looked down at her. “I should have started with this long ago but- my name is Jaskier.”

The girl looked at him under knitted eyebrows. After a moment she nodded her head in understanding. “Of course it is.”

Before Jaskier had the chance of asking _what on earth_ did she mean by that, she stuck out her hand in a handshake.

“Nora.” Her lips were curled in a tiny smile.

Jaskier shook her hand.


End file.
